Author: Dennis A. Gray

PLease Don’t Confuse Me with Facts!

/ Dennis A. Gray / Leave a comment

I subscribe to a number of daily & weekly blogs via Google Reader. It saves me a lot of time and ensures that I don’t miss anything from my favorite writers. This morning I got this from geeksaresexy.com

Why are some Christians so afraid of science.

Why are some Christians so ignorant & afraid of science.

I will never understand why some Christians are A) so incredibly ignorant of basic science and logic, B) so afraid of science they really don’t want to know anything.

Take the above example. First of all let’s look at the original statement of so-called fact.

“Fact – if the earth was 10 ft closer to the sun we would all burn up and if it was 10 ft further we would freeze to death… God is amazing!!”

Yes God is amazing – I’m amazed he doesn’t hurl more thunderbolts when his followers come up with this kind of drivel. Seriously! TEN FEET!!! How can anyone actually believe this? It doesn’t take an astrophysicist to realize that is this were actually true then life on earth would have died off before Adam and Eve got themselves kicked out of The Garden.  Or at best life could not exists outside a narrow band between  10 ft. above and 10 ft. below sea-level.

The first thing they taught us in grade 6 science was the difference between mean distance and average distance and just how much wobbling there is out there when it comes to things like planets and moons and stars and such. One really has to wonder how any educational system more than 10% functional could produce this kind of scientific ignorance.

But the real problem here is not that God-is-awesome-guy can’t comprehend basic physics; it’s his reaction when someone points out the flaw in his logic.

“Okay, thats cool and alll but dont ever comment on my status telling me that i am wrong everrr again. I didnt ask you did i? Answer: NO” [sic]

This is what really bugs me about this post and the entire God vs Science debate (as if God and science have nothing to do with each other). What has happened to the church in the last century to make such a large portion of it so afraid of science? And why is it so many of those who claim to follow one of the gentlest, kindest, most polite people ever (Jesus wasn’t even rude when talking to those who were out to kill him) are such blatantly rude ignoramuses.

This isn’t the first time I have encountered this among God’s people. Back in the Eighties I had a pastor once try to tell me that human beings never, ever under any circumstances lived in caves. That the whole cave-dweller idea was part of the conspiratorial lie that is “evilution” (Yeah – he actually pronounced it that way every single time he said the word).

When I asked him to explain the overwhelming preponderance of evidence that indicated large numbers of human communities lived in caves all over the world, his response was, “Even if it is true, I don’t want to know about it. I prefer my own reality, the facts be damned.” (Exact quote folks. It was so absurd a statement I will never forget it.)

I’ve heard other pastors, elders, evangelists and everyday Christians make similar declarations. “I don’t want to hear the facts. If I’m wrong, I don’t want to know it.” What worries me most is I can only think of one place where this attitude can possibly have come from – insecurity.

That’s right – insecurity! You see, while a number of these people will tell you they hold fast to this position because they are strong in their faith and refuse to buckle under to the lies of science; I think the exact opposite is true.  If your faith is so strong then why must it run away from the facts.

Okay, I know that right now there are a large number of you screaming, “But evolution isn’t a fact – it’s a lie.” First of all – calm down. I’m not talking evolution here – I’m talking science in general. The above example has nothing to do with evolution – it’s a simple matter of math & physics. But even if it was about evolution, why run away from the debate with ridiculous statements like these?

Why can the church not engage in reasonable, intelligent debate instead of meaningless rhetoric that accomplishes nothing other than to shore up the argument that religion is the last retreat of the ignorant and uneducated. It just adds fuel to the fire; it doesn’t solve anything.

I’m really at a loss to understand where this recent fear of science comes from and belive me, it is recent.  As I’ve pointed out in earlier post regarding science fiction, such was not always the case. In previous centuries when science revealed new information about how the earth was made and how nature functions the response of many of these believing scientists was to marvel at the intricacy of God’s creation. In their journals and letters they revel in what they regarded as proof of an intellegence far beyond imagining being at the heart of the universe.

Their faith was not challenged. They didn’t cease to believe. They instead looked at the facts before them, looked at the Word revealed to them and studied to understand how the two come together. When they failed to be able to reconcile them it was not an indication that either science or faith were wrong, but rather an admission that we still need to study harder before understanding could be realized.

When did we stop doing this? When did it become acceptible to check your brain at the door before entering the church?  That’s not to say that there isn’t a good deal of dogmatic ignorance on the side of science as well, there is.  But I not being a scientist I can’t speak to that.

But I feel I can speak to the church, and once again I come back to the question of insecurity. I believe my faith is strong because there is nothing science can reveal to me about how the universe works that will shake it. And I don’t need to run away from it. I want to know how the universe spins. I want to know the world that God created because it all reveals to me something about who God is.

Sometimes it does challenge my understanding of exactly who God is, but never my firm belief that God exists. I harbour no pretentions that I fully understand all there is to know about God or the universe He created. My theology, like everything else about me is a work in progress, a constant state of being and becoming that will never be a stagnant pool but always a flowing river. The shape of it will change with each new turn, each eddy and tributary along the way. Some of the changes will happen because of what I read in the Word, some because of what I read in the earth, but through it all God remains the same.

If your faith avoids rather than faces the challenges that come along, how can growth ever happen?

Shalom…

Now the Fun Begins

/ Dennis A. Gray / Leave a comment

Well, it was only a matter of time but I was hoping it might take a little longer. The side effects of the radiation are starting to make themselves known.

For the last two days I’ve had this annoying little tickle in the back of my throat. It not painful yet but it does feel like I constantly have to clear my throat. The problem is, if I cough or try to clear my throat it will ultimately only make matters worse. Solution – Drink More Fluids.

I feel like my bladder is an overworked reservoir already. I’ve been drinking about 2 liters of juice and the equivalent of 3-4 bottles of water each day, but they tell me it should be 5-6 bottles of  water and I can crank up the juices as well. Interestingly, coffee seems to silence the tickle the best and the longest; however, drinking too much coffee has its own issues.

The juice thing is interesting as well because citrus is off-the-table.  Seems that the acid content in citrus juices like orange and lemonade will only add to the irritation. So will alcohol, so alcohol based cough syrups and the like are also a no-no. So, of course, is Mr. Jack Daniels. Now while Jack and I don’t socialize overly regular, he does sing me a lullaby once in a while when I have trouble sleeping. Have to find a new song I guess.

So far Halls lozenges are doing some good, but most of us suck on them between our tongues and the roof of our mouths. With my new dentures however, that’s proving hard to do as the roof of my mouth is now covered in a layer of acrylic. Still a learning curve involved here.

So we are left water-logging my insides and of course continuing with the baking-soda mouth wash and gargle.  There is a new player on the team however.

Many of you are familiar with the antacid Maalox®. Well, in my regimen it will now be double-teaming with a thick clear liquid that goes by the name of Xylocaine® Viscous. It’s a 2% solution of lidocaine hydrochloride, an oral anesthetic. We mix the two 1:1 and while the Xylocaine numbs my throat the Maalox attempts to mask the flavour some and keeps my stomach from rejecting delivery. It tastes slightly better than liquid chalk but does seem to quiet the tickle in my throat for a while.

There’s one other wrinkle as well. It seems that there’s a few issues with the Volunteer Driver Program at the Guelph branch of the Canadian Cancer Society. The people are still the greatest and I am very glad for all their help, but it seems they have lost and will be losing a few drivers, and also they are looking for a new dispatcher. We are still relying on them for  most of my transportation however, I would like to ease their burden a little if I can.

The link below will take you to a copy of my radiation treatment schedule I’ve posted online. Now, I don’t want anyone to go out of their way, but if you are available for about 3 hours during the day and find the idea of driving to Hamilton with me less than tortuous, then please pick one (1) of the dates listed when you can do me the favour of driving me down to the Juravinski Cancer Centre for one of my appointments and let me know by leaving acomment (link at the end of this post) so that I and anyone else reading this knows which dates have been spoken for. Then we’ll only have to trouble the Cancer Society for the one’s you wonderful people can’t help me out on.

Again, the folks at the Canadian Cancer Centre are great and I don’t want you to think for a second that they aren’t. But if I can reduce my need to rely on them by driving down with a friend or two along the way, that would leave their volunteers free to help other people.

So if you’d like to help out, I’d love to spend a little time with you as well. If you can’t or would rather not, no worries. I understand and am glad for the fact that you care enough to even read this. (I’m still astounded at the number of you out there who do.) As I said before, just follow this link and leave a comment on which day you can help.

Link to My Radiation Schedule

Anyway, that’s it for now. I offer you the following quote and leave you to ponder the ramifications for me traveling through any American ports in the near future.

The technology used to detect if vehicles are carrying radioactive material is so sensitive it can tell if a person recently received radiation as part of a medical procedure. Timothy Murphy

Shalom…

One Down – Thirty-four to Go!

/ Dennis A. Gray / 1 Comment

Well, it’s started; the radiation regimen that is.

Today I went down for the first in a series of 35 radiation treatments and, as advertised, it was a very simple and, at this point anyway, painless process.  Well, not entirely painless. The bed they have you lie down on is pretty hard but that’s because a softer surface would allow too much movement and when they are trying to aim a beam of radiation (high energy x-rays I believe) as accurately as possible-movement results in more serious consequences than just a blurry picture.

The drive down was actually rather nice and not just because of the sunny weather.  The Canadian Cancer Society volunteer, Dave (not his real name) is a retired gentleman who has been doing this sort of thing for 8 years. Three times a week (occasionally four if he feels up to it) he drives people with one cancer or another to a variety of medical appointments in Southern Ontario. So far the furthest he has gone is London in one direction and Mississauga in the other.  He refuses to go to Toronto; the traffic there is more than he can handle.  He got started when he mentioned to a friend that he found retirement extremely boring and needed something to do. His friend was already a volunteer and suggested Dave join him.  As I mentioned, that was eight years ago. The friend can no longer drive, but Dave is still going strong.

The depth of Dave’s experience showed best when we hit downtown Hamilton.  Rather than taking the expressway up, for lack of a better term, the back side of the mountain, Dave sped along one back street after another, winding his way through a maze of tree-lined, one way streets miraculously avoiding heavy traffic and arrived at the Juravinski Cancer Centre in a mere 40 minutes.  This was the best time in which I have ever made the trip and it does go to show that if you do something often enough you get very good at it.

At the Centre things went very smoothly.  After a brief wait a charming woman named Kristy led me to a small comfortable room and made sure, first of all, that I was actually Dennis Gray.  When I was there for my orientation they took my picture; she had a copy of it with her and took the time to compare it to me.  Since five days growth of beard hadn’t changed me enough to make me unrecognizable she moved on to the next step.

She  made sure I fully understood what was about to happen, what the side effects of the treatments would be, the recommended ways to deal with them, and what I was going to do with each return trip.  All questions were answered in a pleasant, unhurried manner and repeated in the same manner when needed. It was a very comfortable experience. (See last few Paragraphs of previous post.)

Then after she showed me around a little I changed into a traditional hospital gown (only needed to strip from the waist up which was nice). Then there followed but a brief wait until it was time for me to go in to Machine 10B for my treatment. I had arrived a little early, thanks to Dave so I had time to get in a little reading. Love my Sony eReader.

When the time came Kristy escorted me to Machine 10b and introduced me to the other two treatment technologists. Since I didn’t see much of them (my glasses were off by this point) I can’t seem to remember their names; at least that’s my theory and I’m sticking to it.  But they were all very nice and made me as comfortable as they could on the aforementioned hard bed designed more to keep me immobile than comfortable.  Two quick low-energy x-rays to make sure I was lined up right and then it began.

From the patient’s point of view nothing could be simpler, or more uneventful.  For the next 20 minutes I laid flat on my back, staring straight up at the lights on the ceiling while servo-motors rotated the linear accelerator around me and made slight positional adjustments to the bed I was lying on until I was properly positioned for each of the 9 individual firings. Each firing lasts 20 seconds and is noticeable only by means of a very low volume buzz coming from the direction of the large circular head of the machine.

When the procedure was over (painless this time as I mentioned) I changed back into my shirt and jacket and rejoined Dave in the main lobby. After a quick stop at Tim’s for a double-double we were on our way back to Guelph.

I thanked Dave for his efforts on my behalf when I got home around 5:30, but somehow it hardly seemed adequate. I’ve been thinking about him and his ilk, volunteering the way they do. He picked me up at work, drove me down, waited for me for over an hour, drove me back to the work shop-because in my slight anxiety I forgot my keys, and then drove me home. In all about a three hour slice out of his day.  And this he has done 3 three times a week for the last eight years. They say Guelph is the volunteer capital of Canada. People like Dave are the reason why.  Thanks again Dave.

Speaking of driving; a number of you out there have expressed a willingness, dare I say even a desire, to drive me down for one of my appointments. Well, though it looks like the Cancer Society may have things well in hand, I too would greatly enjoy a chance to spend some time driving with you and getting to know you a little better in the process.  With that end in mind the link below will take you to an online version of my schedule of appointments.

Follow the link and let me know which one (1) appointment for which you positively know you are available to drive me down and drive me home. Keep in mind that each Wednesday they will be giving me an update of my schedule and when they do it’s possible some changes may take place. With new patients coming in all the time occasionally some juggling must take place, so please check back once a week or so.

https://spreadsheets.google.com/ccc?key=0ApI5vq3YTQfNdFgtSVZaZmV3MTZnckoxMC12eVNvdnc&hl=en&authkey=CO73uqYB

Trinty Prayer Shawl

The Prayer Shawl knitted for me by the ladies of Trinity United Church in Guelph

Well, that’s it for this time around. Oh! Except to say thanks once again to my good friend and theatre pal Beth Freeth, her mother, and the folks at Trinity United Church in Guelph, who knitted and prayed over the lovely prayer shawl in the picture at left.  They do this for people who are brought to their attention. They knit the shawls and then pray over them so that the folks who receive them will have a continuing reminder of the warmth of God’s love and the prayers that are going up on their behalf. It’s a marvelous gesture and I will treasure it always.

Gratitude as well to all of you who are praying for me and offering help in other tangible ways. (Great pot roast Margaret!)  I love you all and think of you often.

Till next time.

Shalom.

The Man in the Plastic Mask – Our Story Continues

/ Dennis A. Gray / Leave a comment

Well, as I reported last time this was the day we were to spend down in Hamilton getting things ready for my radiation treatments. And for a few moments there, we wondered if we’d even make it.

On Monday Roberta called the Cancer Society to arrange for a volunteer driver to take us down for my three appointments today. The lady at the Society’s office told us that something would be arranged and that the volunteer driver would call my cell phone with the details sometime Wednesday night to make the arrangements for Thursday. Well, by 9 pm last night the driver still hadn’t called and since we were starting to get concerned Roberta started phoning around looking for a ‘plan B’. Unfortunately, she wasn’t too clear on the fact that the first option had appeared to have fallen through, and a lot of folks thought we had simply left asking far too late. Once that little detail was cleared up and folks realized that it was a last minute ‘plan B’ we were looking for, response became more favourable. Sorry Folks!

Anyway, a back-up plan was found; a lawyer friend of ours was willing to let us borrow one of their cars so that Roberta and I could drive down ourselves. Since no actual treatment was going to take place this time (once the treatments start I can’t drive home afterward – must have a driver) driving ourselves was an option.

About 15 minutes after we had gotten off the phone with our friends, the Cancer Society driver finally called. Turns out she had called before (the house number-not my cell phone) but because of confidentiality constraints was unable to leave a message on the machine. Apparently, and this came as a surprise to Roberta and I, a great many cancer patients never tell their families about the disease. They go through weeks and weeks of treatments without ever telling anyone they have cancer; not their co-workers, not their children, not even their spouses. For this reason, the Cancer Society volunteers are not allowed to leave a phone message in case they accidently blow their client’s cover. And since, for some reason, the office had not given the coordinator my cell phone number, we had no idea they had been trying to contact us.

Anyway, we got things sorted out with the volunteer driver and had just finished calling our lawyer friend back to let them know everything was on track when the phone rang again. This time it’s the coordinator of the volunteer drivers for the Cancer Society. While we were on the phone calling our friends (for the second time) he was telling our driver that her schedule for the next day was going to be disrupted because another volunteer was suddenly unavailable. He was calling us because we had happened to mention to the driver that we had a ‘plan B’ in place and he was calling to see if we could still use our back-up plan because he needed our driver to go to Toronto instead of Hamilton.

So, back on the phone to the lawyer-friend and this morning he picked us up at the house; we dropped him off at the office and then Roberta and I were on the road to Hamilton with an extra 20 minutes to spare. God Bless ‘em, I don’t ever want to hear any of you bad-mouthing lawyers again! Lol

The rest of the day was largely uneventful, going pretty much as planned except for one interesting little quirk at the surgeon’s office. We were just checking in with the surgeon’s secretary when he stepped into her office and asked us “Why are you here? I was not expecting to see you until after your radiation treatments were finished.” Turns out the resident at the hospital who told us to make an appointment with the good doctor for two weeks after the surgery was just following standard protocol and Dr. Gupta didn’t actually want to see us at all; he was expecting the Juravinski Centre to handle all the follow-up until after the radiation therapy was complete.

Oh well, no harm done. We did have a nice little chat with him and one of his residents and were happy to have him confirm once again that the 16mm tumour was fully contained in the tonsil and was of the P16 variety of the HP (Human Papillomavirus) type of cancer, a type which responds very well to the radiation treatments and is highly curable. Given the track record of this treatment with this type of cancer no chemo-therapy and no additional surgery should be needed once the radiation regimen is complete. Yay!

The rest of the day went smoothly; nice visit with the rad-techs at the Juravinski as they made the mould by pressing this warm net of plastic over my face (see pic –Sorry, that’s not me, it’s a file pic from web-site. Mine looks just like it though.)

Man in the Plastic mask - not me, file pic from web site

Man in the Plastic mask - not me, file pic from web site

A quick lunch at Tim’s up the street and then back to the clinic for a CT-scan that will be used to help plan my regimen of treatments and be used to aim one of the 11 Varian Linear Accelerators that will be used to administer the radiation treatments.

Well, that’s about it I guess except that I would like to make one observation.

Both Roberta and I have spent a lot of time on the phone and talking to various help care types in both Guelph and Hamilton since this whole thing started almost a year ago, and we have both noticed the same thing. Dealing with the various components of Hamilton Health Sciences has been an amazing experience. The difference between there and here in Guelph is almost like night and day.

Now I want o make it clear that I’m not talking about the people here! I am sure that the people here in Guelph are every bit as dedicated and caring as the folks in Hamilton are; rather I’m talking about the system each are asked to work under. In Guelph we have found it very much a bureaucratic, institutional system. Lots of answering machines, few call backs, overworked staff, and few volunteers resulting in a process that is designed to treat as many people as possible but with comparatively little human interaction.

The Hamilton Health Sciences setup, from our experience anyway, seems to be much better coordinated in a customer-service orientation. We call down there and talk to people within only a few steps through the computer phone system. Everyone we work with seems to be relaxed and un-hurried, their first priority appearing to be making sure we understand everything and we’re still at least marginally within our comfort zone before going on to the next step.

And the volunteers absolutely blew us away. From folks at the information desks guiding you from one part of the hospital maze to another, to the lovely woman going from waiting room to waiting room handing out coffee, tea and cookies (she even got Roberta some hot water she could use to revive her Tim Horton’s green tea), all of them were absolutely amazing. I have never had so relaxing and calming an experience in a hospital or clinic before.

Since we had the same experience at both St. Joseph’s and the Juravinski centre, either they are both reading the same play-book or Hamilton Health Services has set up a wider policy of treating people like people. Whichever it is, from where I was sitting; in the waiting room, in the Mould Room, in the CT scanning room, someone is doing something right in Hamilton.

Like I said, I really don’t believe it’s the people. I think it’s the system they are each asked to work under, one that is institutionally designed to get the job done, and another that seems designed to put patient comfort first. And if, as one friend has suggested, the difference is because both St. Joseph’s and the Juravinski are publically funded, but privately run, then give me the privately run system every time.

Looking Forward to a Day in Hamilton

/ Dennis A. Gray / Leave a comment
JCC totebag

My JCC tote-bag. One souvenir I cold do without.

Okay. I’m back from the latest trip to the clinic in Hamilton and here’s what’s what.

They did in fact find the cancer – it was hiding in my right tonsil. Seems they got the sucker when they took my tonsil out. They were just going in for a look-see because they suspected it might be there, and lo and behold it was. However, since this was just your garden variety tonsillectomy (in case they were wrong I guess) they did not burn out as much of the surrounding area as they would have done if they knew for sure they were removing a cancerous-type tumor.  And since the cyst proved little pieces of this thing are floating around in my lymphatic system, we must not leave anything to chance; so…

On with the radiation therapy! (Oh joy) I head back down Thursday next (Dec. 9th for those of you keeping notes) and engage in a day full of fun and excitement.

1st up – a trip to the surgeon’s at 9:30 am. (or 9:50 am – can’t read my wife’s hand writing and neither can she.  Will have to make a phone call on this one Monday) to make sure the charred flesh in my throat is healing nicely. That’s right, we want to be sure that my throat has fully recovered from the last atrocity inflicted upon it before we subject it to another one.

2nd on the itinerary – The Man in the Plastic Mask – Act 1.  At 11:15 a.m. our healthy, medically certified, and CLEAN-SHAVEN  hero (me) arrives up at the Juravinski Cancer Centre to get a cast made of my face using a special plastic mold. This will be used to keep yours truly from twitching while these high-tech William Tells try to shoot a cancer laden apple off my head with an arrow made of radiation. If I flinch we might wind up with an outcome decidedly different from the opera. Ouch! (Yes, I’m mixing my theatrical allusions here but I really don’t care.)

3rd in line – Lunch.  Apparently it takes an hour and a half for the cast to harden; during which time I am invited to have lunch, take a walk, whatever, so long as I am back for the second act.

4th item – The man in the Plastic Mask – Act 2.  Once the cast has hardened we return to the clinic where a CAT-scan of me in the mask will be taken. This will in turn be used to plot out the course of my radiation therapy sessions and pin-point EXACTLY where those aforementioned radioactive arrows will intersect with my anatomy. Then the mask will be marked with the indelible ink targets, instead of my face.

That done I am set free to roam the earth until the actual radiation treatments begin about 2 weeks later (specifics to follow on Dec. 9th) I am told all will proceed without incident for the first few weeks of treatment, after which the side effects will kick in and I’ll wish my mother had never given my father his first kiss (or some other event that would have precluded my birth so as to avoid all this unpleasantness).

Well, that’s the sum total of the information I have for now. This should be more than enough for the prayerful, the genuinely concerned, and the just plain curious until we write the next chapter. See you Dec 10th.